


Secret Agent Man ( He's My)

by I_Will_Disappear



Category: James Bond (Movies), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Creeping Creepers Creep On, Double Agents, F/M, Honey Badger, M/M, Multi, Oh Honey, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:43:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Will_Disappear/pseuds/I_Will_Disappear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles will blame Scott and Greensburg for his assignment to Derek Hale.<br/>But with a partner (and that's what Stiles is going to call them because he was NOT Derek's sidekick) who looked and spoke and walked, and exisisted like Derek did, well he wasn't going to blame anyone. </p><p>Now all he had to do was prove that the lurky, chippy dude was up to something and get Derek cleared and save the agency and the world. Yeah that seems do able.</p><p>'Wait though, I'm I attractive to gay guys?'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Baby It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saucery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saucery/gifts).



> You can blame this on Saucery's tumblr, all your fault man, all your fault. Tags and characters will be added as I go along.

The night was cool, cold , chilly, fucking freezing really; but that's okay because Stiles doesn't mind so much. Not when he had to make sure that he is on time and sure he's, like, half an hour early and the bench chilled his ass to the bone the second he sat on it.

He takes a moment to curse Scott for getting paired with that one dude, it takes him a moment before he is smiling because Scott is just as bad off; Greensburg was assigned to Scott, or was it the other way around, he wasn't to sure, but who cares.

It takes a moment for him to realize that he's humming along with the traffic out on the main street while he tucked himself into the park. It was freezing and he was contemplating getting thick pants and socks when this, person, peels away( actually fucking peels away) from the shade of a tree.

He panic for a moment; realizes that he's in a somewhat secluded part of a park AT NIGHT, far away from home, and alone. Yup, alone, solo, solito, one is the loneliest number, when this person turned man turned huge fucking mountain, comes prowling toward him.

If he weren't panicing he would have found it very appropriate of the whole secret agent man/service that he has gotten himself into. 

This man, pulling from the dark, lurking forward toward him, peacoat pulled close and tight, much like Stiles' own. It was perfection, but he couldn't appreciate it so instead he stood up fast and clumsy and trips, stutters out honey badger.

There's a sigh from the man, and wow, like, WOW; broody and angry and probably cold too, but hey those eyes catching green, blue, hazel leave him more breathless then he was before.

A returned honey suckle and they're walking side by side and down the pathway to the other side of Hide park were their car was scheduled to be dropped off.


	2. And At The Starting Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's how he found out about werewolves, because Scott and Jackson are both ridiculous and Stiles is a bit of a creeper who likes to sit back and watch people. Even though he never shuts up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my glob, i had to buy a new laptop. also i feel a little uncomfortable with the writing style of this, so that may change (by that, i mean my writing style, not the chapter) unbeta'd

The whole start to this outrageous story is his dad.

There’s a lot of noise about his dad when he decided that he would be retiring, sure he was only thinking about retiring in four or five years but the entire department were shedding tears and pulling out hair.

Stiles had seen them running around grasping at straws about something that was just an idea, just a maybe about the future; he had stopped to take it all in and realized  
that he would very much like to be a part of the mess.

So off he went to join the academy, it was a given that he would join, his father being the sheriff and everyone asking when he would fill his father’s shoes. There was just one little problem with the whole equation. Stiles was smart, too smart.

There were questions about his progression through the academy, questions about a department shift that seemed to be centered around him. There were questions about his abrupt leave, how he went from a small police academy in northern California to an agency training program in Virginia.

His father was proud, his there again, gone again friends from high school would shoot of an email every once in a while; ‘hey there big shot, how are you’, or ‘Virginia, how’s that?’ Never anything important, so when he got bored he would walk around.

There was a heavily wood area around the side buildings, all restricted and guarded from “outside intrusions” but he would walk closer and closer until one day he started to talk to one of the agents posted at the line of trees. It was these people that would gain him the most information about what exactly went on, and who went were; his own personal look out within the grounds and offices.

It was simple at first, all ‘hey have you see agent so and so?’ or ‘do you know how to take apart that shot gun in like, 30 seconds? Or does it, like, take longer because it’s bigger?’

It got to the point where most of the agents who hung around the tree line knew him and he knew them. He knew all about them, those classes on deduction and induction and ethics and all other classes that weren’t necessarily needed but offered; all the classes that he piled on his plate.

But all of that was okay, because he did what all the other, would be, soon to be agents tried to do with the higher ups in the lunchroom and offices. He planted himself into their everyday line of fire, placed himself were he could ask for a favor and be asked for a favor in return. His father always said you had to know everyone you worked with, all of them, get their trust, show that you were worth it, and they would work with you better than if they only knew you as that one guy who does the filing. 

So it was no surprise that he got shifted again, into a different building with some nice guy, who within a few weeks became his best friend. Roommates were something that was seen every day, they paired you up with whomever; usually with someone that was on par with you, or had the same classes as you. Stiles, however, was a different case, they usually paired him with people who needed to work on control, or needed to get that their way wasn’t always going to happen; that’s what they did with Jackson and soon there was no turning back from it. He dealt with asshats or morons, but Scott was nice, sweet; too sweet actually. The guy brought a hurt bird to their room and nursed the thing back to health.

So Stiles figured that Scott just needed someone to help keep him focused or slap sense into him.  
It isn’t until the second month that Stiles picks up on the ‘recon replica missions’ that Scott goods to follow the lunar calendar and fall on full moons. It doesn’t take long to feel the grooves were Scott gripped the table, bedframe, door frame, or chair to tight.

He figures it out and gets as many eBooks as he can; he downloads them through a loop in the security system that he found, found being a loose synonym of created; Running security on his line and safe guarding his network like a boss.

He learnt more through examples and demonstration; the hours spent with the network administrator on the fifth floor and the programmers on sub level 8 helped him with those explanations, examples, and demonstrations. He has a reader that he hi jacked from tech, some old thing that no one cared for too much. He piled together books and papers; hours of reading and research helped him understand Scott beyond his wildest dreams.

He stays quiet, silent, and patient as Scott struggles to pull his control in, reign his other half. It’s when they get a visit from one of the other agencies, from somewhere over seas (Britain or Russia) that stiles decided to say something. It’s quiet in the room as soon as he steps in. Scott is seated at the long table facing Harris and Finstock; there’s a man and woman there, Morrell and Deaton he thinks to himself off handedly.

Jackson's there too; leaning back in his chair as the door shuts behind him. He's sitting up and snarking at Stiles, Scott looks down at the table, eyes wide and Harris sighs up a storm.

‘What do you want Bilinski, you shouldn’t be here. Don’t you have three classes to be at?’

‘Look, cupcake,’ and Stiles says it because he had, had a conversation with the man, and apparently being called cupcake was a thing. ‘I kind of think they need to be taught a few more things.’

Harris pushed up his glasses before smirking, a look mirrored by Jackson as they meet eyes.

‘Mr. Stilinski, I believe that you are not inclined to understand and thus give your opinion about these agents. They are in a separate program, something that needs a bit more finesse that you happen to not have, so please see yourself out so we can go on with this meeting.’

‘Yeah, yeah, see there’s the problem right there. I take it you,’ and he looks at the foreign director, Deaton, British agency for sure. ‘Want them to be all super, secret agent man and kick ass. Some take care of business; ask questions late shit without the mindless need to destroy everything. So you need them subtle. Tough luck.’ 

The guy was smiling, so was the woman, Morrell, they were intimidating and he wondered for a bit if they knew that he knew; they probably did, that was good and bad.

He always knew it was better to be underestimated and misunderstood then show your cards; now was the time to play those cards though, play them fast and hard, get them were he wanted them.

‘If you wanted to keep the werewolf in the bag then you should have chosen better candidates.’  
Harris stiffens and Finstock sighs.

Jackson has a nasty sneer on his face and Scott gave him the biggest, saddest, ‘please forgive me bro, they made me do it, I would have told you I swear’ puppy eyes stiles had ever seen.

‘I think Boyd was your best choice so far actually, not as much control as Scott, but he’s pretty level headed. If you want this to work out like Russia and Germany’s are, then you’re going to need to fix a few things first.’

He just looks at the room, at everyone there, turning to look at Deaton and Morrell, ignoring Harris’ rant about not knowing what stiles was talking about, and the scientific impossibility of werewolves even existing.

‘What do you suggest then Mr. Stilinski.’ And stiles had to pause because this was Director Allan Deaton, one of the most respected agents of time asking for his opinion.

‘I think you need new training regimens and better decision making skills because, Jackson? Really? Yeah, that was not a smart idea. Also…’

And that’s where everything really begins, when stiles kept quiet for months and played baby sitter to Scott, and rearranged training sessions and meal plans. It started there with werewolves and tech support and supply, with security network administrators and forensic analysis and every other analysis that he could find.

It started in Virginia and moved to New York, and now, finally, London.

Finally, Derek.

**Author's Note:**

> OH God I'm sorry in advance because I suck at updates, but I'll... try?


End file.
